*
The Sealord looked at the black envoy with some shock; this esteemed "ruler" of Braavos now seemed to have eyes that could devour the black envoy.
He had seen a dragon? Where had he seen it?
But the Sealord dared not ask. The current city defenses of Braavos could handle one or two dragons without much trouble, but if those two Dragonlord families from across the sea vented their wrath upon the Secret City...
The glorious age of magic had passed. The Children of the Forest, who once wielded the Hammer of the Waters to shatter continent-spanning land bridges, had vanished. The Dawn Empire, which commanded the mighty power of the gods, had also been submerged in the river of history. The Rhoynar had lost the water magic that once swept across the continent, and even Asshai, the city of magic, had fallen into silence due to the weakening of magical power.
The magic of the Faceless Men was unpredictable and strange, but it was limited to that. The Moonsingers excelled at prophecy and healing, but knew almost nothing about combat. The greatest Blood Mage was in Westeros, and other Blood Witches were like mortals to a god in front of Dragonzel, or like ants scorned by a dragon. The followers of the red god had been much more low-key in recent years, and the Red-robed Monks who once walked the continent displaying "miracles" had also become much fewer.
No one knew why.
Only dragons still flourished. Although compared to the Valyrian Freehold era, it could be considered a decline, for the East Continent, which had weak magical power, two Dragonlord families and over thirty dragons were already enough to make the Nine Free Cities tremble with fear.
The black envoy also realized that what he had said might be problematic, and he stuffed the secret back into his mouth. As a prince merchant from the Summer Isles, he was qualified to accompany the Sealord to receive distinguished guests.
But he still recounted his experiences in his mind.
He had once sailed from the sinful ruins of Eyrie Island to the mud and blood-built towns in the northern part of the continent where the rainforest lay, solely for the priceless treasures within that green hell. While passing an uninhabited beach, he witnessed a beautiful dragon with a spiny crown fighting a Changyi dragon.
He dared to swear by the bounteous god of love and beauty that the beautiful dragon was definitely not the Changyi dragon he had seen many times, because he saw fire.
That dragon burned two massive Banded Longwing dragons to death with dragonfire and tore a Swamp Changyi dragon to pieces alive.
This caused his swan boat to panic and hastily sail away from that sea area.
He only vaguely saw that there seemed to be a person on the dragon's back, but it was only vague. Many years had passed, and his memory was also a bit blurry.
However, this was not the time to recall these things. When that dragon descended from the sky, sweeping over the heads of the Titan and the statues of past Sealords, gliding over the complex waterways and pleasure boats of Braavos, and landing heavily in the courtyard of the Sealord's palace, the black envoy even felt his heart nearly stop. He shrank his neck. He was immensely grateful for the attire of his homeland; the huge feathered headdress allowed him to hide himself, so as not to be targeted by that golden beast.
Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.
The black envoy could even hear his own heartbeat. He secretly watched the Sealord respectfully welcome the handsome silver-haired young man as he dismounted from the dragon's back, even wishing he could just kneel on the ground for Prince Aegon to step on him.
Of course, this was impossible, after all, he was the Sealord, the ruler of Braavos.
"This is a polite Prince," the black envoy thought to himself, but his gaze was more focused on the topaz-colored golden beast.
His heart seemed to tremble. Syrax was like the hand of a beautiful woman, tightly piercing through his chest on the bed, gripping his heart, or like that special technique in the Summer Isles' bedroom arts, stuffing countless feathers into his throat, making him unable to speak even if he wanted to. He felt his hands and feet colder than if they had been pulled from the sea, and only when the dragon shifted its gaze could he hear his own breathing.
What a terrifying, what a majestic, what a beautiful creature it was!
Its enormous body left almost no room to step in the spacious courtyard of the Sealord's palace. Its topaz-colored scales shimmered in the sunlight. Wherever the dragon's eyes swept, everyone could only lower their heads, and even those in the shadows had to bend their bodies.
The black envoy swore that all the rare and exotic beasts he had ever seen in his life combined, only that fleeting glimpse of a dragon from back then could compare to this golden beast.
But he dared not utter a sound, only watching as the dragon coldly surveyed the crowd, then self-importantly folded its wings and buried its head within them to doze off.
It might not have noticed anything, but everyone else was thoroughly disoriented by Syrax's wing flap. Even the black envoy, who was a little further away, felt the hot wind stirred by the dragon's wings.
"Prince," the Sealord asked hesitantly, "Your dragon..." It wasn't that Syrax couldn't stay in the courtyard, but many things that had been prepared couldn't be used.
The courtyard of the Sealord's palace was also extremely luxurious, with flowerbeds, hedges, marble statues, and fountains everywhere, and flowing clear water in the long corridors on both sides.
Unfortunately, all of this was messed up by Syrax. The dragon even directly extended its tail into the clear water to soak, which made the Sealord's heart ache.
Although he was not short of money, repairing the Sealord's palace required a long struggle of wits with the old men of the council.
Thinking of this, the Sealord's heart ached even more.
"Syrax likes it here, Sealord. Please bear with its willfulness," Prince Aegon said with a smile as he followed the Sealord into his palace. "After all, I cannot predict its actions, Prince. It is too large, and even a slight movement can cause damage beyond our imagination. This place is large enough and very suitable for Syrax to stay."
"Good, good," the Sealord nodded repeatedly, slowly sitting back on his iron throne. "Whatever the Prince says."
While Prince Aegon was settling into his own seat, the Sealord wiped the cold sweat from his temples.
The black envoy who had followed them in could even see the Sealord's legs trembling. It seemed that the dragon—a mature, old dragon—had indeed left a deep impression on the Sealord.
"Sealord, I come on behalf of King Daeron I of the Targaryen family. Here is his handwritten letter," Prince Aegon said, seeing that everyone was ready. He took out the wax-sealed letter and handed it to the Sealord's attendant.
The young attendant, trembling slightly, handed the letter to the equally uneasy Sealord.
This "supreme ruler" of Braavos quickly scanned Prince Daeron's letter.
The content of the letter was simple: King Daeron informed Braavos that pirates, whom the Stepstones had failed to eradicate, were gathering on the Redwood Coast and Crying Coast of the Disputed Lands, threatening the kingdom's maritime safety. Additionally, a mercenary group called "Glory of the Seven Gods" in the Disputed Lands was being besieged by several other mercenary groups. The leader of this mercenary group was a Westerosi noble, and in a life-or-death situation, he had sent a desperate plea for help to his homeland.
King Daeron decisively decided that "we must help our suffering compatriots, and we must eliminate evil thoroughly."
Therefore, King Daeron decided to dispatch an army to eradicate the pirates and rescue the noble of his homeland.
He hoped that Braavos could provide loans and help Westeros accomplish this sacred and righteous undertaking.
The Sealord tugged at the corners of his mouth, somewhat speechless.
Finally, a smile returned to his face.
"Prince, I understand what His Majesty the King of the Iron Throne means."
The Sealord said with a smile, "I will submit King Daeron's letter to the council for deliberation. Please rest assured, Braavos always stands on the side of justice."
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